


The PC Term is 'Sartorially Challenged'

by midnightstreet



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Banter, Clothed Sex, Dry Humping, M/M, Patrick's Sex Shirt, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:00:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24565801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightstreet/pseuds/midnightstreet
Summary: Really, David? You're going to comment on the length of Patrick's sleeves? People in glass houses, and all that.Set during The Wingman.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 34
Kudos: 161





	The PC Term is 'Sartorially Challenged'

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DelilahMcMuffin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DelilahMcMuffin/gifts).



> Happy Birthday, Delilah!
> 
> Oodles of thanks to singsongsung for help with Canadian retail outlets, and to yourbuttervoicedbeau for a little bit of everything else.
> 
> I haven't really written anything in, uh...10 years? Please be gentle.

"The _only_ thing that's complicated here is the length of your sleeves: go long, go short, just pick one."

"Could say the same about half of your _pants_ ," Patrick mumbled as he turned his face away, taking a few steps back in the opposite direction from Jake's door. He wasn't sure if he was annoyed or pleased when he realized he'd been caught as David nudged his shoulder to spin him around. "What was that? Are you getting sassy with me over _fashion_?"

Oh, and just like that Patrick is snapped out of his increasingly cranky mood. This, he could do. 

"I'm just saying. Pot, kettle," Patrick threw back with a smirk.

David's eyebrows shot up, chin pulling in and head tilting as he studied Patrick.

"Okay, my wardrobe? Is a carefully-curated collection sampling the best ready-to-wear lines the 2014-2015 season had to offer. _This_?" David began, waving both palms over Patrick's chest, "is a garment of dubious fabric content that looks like it was obtained for half off during Express Men's going-out-of-business sale."

"If you find it so offensive, why do you keep staring at it like you're about to start drooling?" Patrick challenged, raising a non-eyebrow.

"Oh, make no mistake: liking it on you, and wanting to tear it _off_ you, would both produce this face. In this case? We're talking about the latter."

David had stepped more fully into Patrick's space as they traded barbs, and Patrick suddenly realized he had been backed up against the wall. Yes, excellent progress. Patrick had been keyed up on anxiety and arousal and adrenaline for hours; he wanted more of this, and he knew how to get it.

"You're right, David, I should defer all fashion advice to the grown man in his thirties who wears capris."

David's indignant face is turned up to eleven, apparently so stunned, he couldn't formulate a response. _Delicious_.

"What can I say? A peek of a hairy shin turns me on."

And that's it, that's all she wrote, folks. Patrick had hit his target and hit it _hard_. David slammed Patrick the last inch into the wall, Patrick's head thunking against the cinder block - _what the hell kind of serial killer sub-basement was this anyway,_ Patrick wondered, _and why does Schitt's Creek even_ have _so many crappy apartment buildings?_ \- attacking Patrick with teeth and tongue. David's hands wandered, and Patrick felt a slight pressure before...yup, he was pretty sure that had been the button barely containing his pecs, shooting across the hallway and pinging off the conveniently-placed fire extinguisher. 

David stooped slightly to trail open-mouthed kisses down the center of Patrick's chest before sliding over and, yes, there it was, David was sucking his nipple - _hard_ \- through the "dubious fabric" of Patrick's poor destroyed Sex Shirt. With the last of his brain cells, Patrick reasoned that, if the shirt was going to get him so thoroughly defiled, the person doing the defiling didn't actually matter; the fact that his fiancé still wanted him so badly he was ready to fuck him in a public place filled Patrick with pride and a deep-down warmth, and he gazed lovingly at the top of David's head.

Another _rip_ and a second innocent button flew off to who-knows-where, but Patrick couldn't care less when he felt David's mouth back on his nipple with nothing in its way this time, the hint of David's stubble getting Patrick the rest of the way to hard. Patrick grabbed on to the short hair at the back of David's head, getting a beautiful moan from David before yanking him up for another kiss and using the fact that David was now standing up straight to shove his thigh between leather-clad legs.

"Holy _fuck_ ," David exhaled, forehead pressing against Patrick's. His eyes shot down to see where their respective bulges were grinding together between David's leather and Patrick's denim. "Oh honey, yes, _oh_. God you're so fucking sexy, you're _so_ fucking sexy, I love the shirt, I love it," David babbled, hands gripping Patrick's shoulders, petting him frantically.

Patrick pressed his upper body hard into the wall, levering his groin up to increase the pressure and friction. A brief moment of wondering whether David was even wearing underwear with those pants sent a spark up Patrick's spine, and he used his leverage instead to shove himself off the wall, spinning David until their positions were reversed.

"Yeah, you love it. Come on, give it to me. Show me how much you love it." Patrick redoubled his efforts, rubbing his cock hard and fast against David's, eliciting a nonstop stream of desperate whimpers as sweat beaded down David's temple.

"Honey, oh, oh _fuck_ ," David cried out, coming hard in those obscene leather pants, scrabbling at Patrick's back. Patrick lifted his pelvis and shifted over to keep David from getting overstimulated, using David's hip to get himself the rest of the way there.

As Patrick leaned his forehead against David's collarbone, desperately gasping for air, a thought popped into his head. "...are you wearing cologne?" 

David grabbed Patrick's structurally compromised shirt and dragged him back down the hall, away from Jake's and, hopefully, in the direction of some clean underwear.

They could revisit this threesome idea later.


End file.
